


God-King

by orphan_account



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bathing/Washing, F/M, Gen, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monsters, Rough Sex, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22400590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: heres the product of my 5 hour long journey into hornyville. its 4:30am F formatting and beta reading.Reader is DFAB.Tyreen chapter coming sometime.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Reader, Troy Calypso/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 109





	God-King

A priest rasped gently on your door in the twilight hours. "The God-King requests your presence."

This was not the first time you had been summoned to His quarters while he was in a sour mood and seeking relief from his endless onslaught from work, and from how sweetly you ached for days after those sessions you eagerly clambered out of your bed, changed into clothes that you'd consider more appropriate for an audience with Him (despite the fact that it would all end up on the floor less than an hour later) and brushed your teeth and hair. As you were walking up the flights of stairs to His room, however, you were stopped by another priest on the landing. "You are to be bathed and dressed in chosen garments - second door to the left down this hall." You stared quizzically at the priest - you haven't been forced to be bathed since your conditioning, plus He didn't care what you wore as long as it was easy to take off - it wasn't like he let you wear much, anyhow. "...Okay?" was all you said, and the priest gave the standard deep bow and left.  
You headed down the hallway and into the bathroom, where the several-foot-wide luxury tub was already filled with warm water, floral scents and fizzing bubbles. As expected, and distantly familiar, two priests were there to aid you in bathing and simply relaxing, to tenderize you. They granted you the privacy to strip naked and enter the bath on your own, then went to work massaging fragrant oils and conditioners into your hair and skin. They gave you wine to drink, and sweet fruit to eat. You felt like you had been spiritually scrubbed clean. You actually missed being pampered like that… but the ritualistic edge of all of this is making you nervous.  
Oh, yeah, it was definitely making you nervous. After you had been toweled down and your hair dried they gave you a simple sheer robe to wear.. nothing else. One of the priests must have saw your nerve-laden expression. "Please, go on. It's been requested by the God-King. No one else roams the halls near His rooms," she gently curled one of your stray hairs out of your face, "you'll be fine."  
They both bowed, and left you alone to change. You toyed with the fabric in your hands, holding it up to the light; it glimmered and sparkled, only faintly, as the colorful inside of a seashell would. It felt… expensive. It was easy to slip into, and gazing into the standing mirror… it accentuated the curves and features of your body, your natural beauty. You didn't know what you did to deserve it.  
You were a quiet follower, mostly obedient (within reason) and choosing to keep to yourself rather than try and capture your attention. They liked this about you, and made you into one of their human pets, promising protection and so, so much affection. Praise.  
Despite this... they did not tell you much about their early lives, nor did they tell you much of their current work or their plight against the Vault Thieves. You barely knew about His eridium refinery, only learning of it when he mentioned it passively, remarking that he felt better than ever after taking a new batch that same morning. You never knew about their family, or their true motivations for the Great Vault. Despite this, they expected to know everything about you - your past, your traumas, even tried to get you to divulge information about your family, but you stayed quiet on that one and simply delt with their passive aggression in the days following. You told them every story behind each scar, but they refused to do the same.  
Feeling calm and rosy after your bath, you then headed to His room, down the connective hallway lined with stained glass that captured Pandora's setting sun beautifully. Usually the religious mood didn't transfer over to His room, it usually being trashed, generally unkempt with stray wires and gods-knows-what-else but tonight was different. His room was actually clean, neat and tidy, there was the fragrant scent of a smoking incense stick somewhere, candles of various lengths and sizes were lit along the headboard of His bed and on the smattering of desks and tables around the room. Everything was cleared off, stored away, though for what you couldn't tell.  
The only thing missing was… well, Troy. Whenever He wanted you in his room in the past he made it very clear that he wanted you right there and then, with little regard to anything else. Unsure of what to do, you paced around the room a bit, examining slightly interesting knickknacks and just… being nervous. This tired you out a little, already feeling sleepy from the glass of wine and being interrupted in the middle of a snooze, and after waiting for another few minutes it became clear that Troy was taking His sweet time.  
You laid down on his bed, running your hands over His luxury sheets, handmade on Junpai-7, he'd always say. Some time had passed and you found yourself getting hotter, even though you were wearing physically nothing. There was a glass of cold water and more fruit sitting on his nightstand, presumably  
left by one of the priests. Eagerly, you gulped down the cold icewater and ate some of the similarly chilled fruit, but it only barely fought off the heat. Maybe it was the wine? Though you weren't a lightweight, a lifetime of Pandoran moonshine had left you with a hardy tolerance and maybe a lot more lost braincells than you'd like to admit. You chose to simply wait it out still, tossing and turning in His bed to no end of the stifling heat. It couldn't be the room temperature - it's always kept at a stable, comfortable coolness. You wished you were able to savor it.  
As you writhed and coiled in on yourself in His bed trying to find a cool spot, you accidentally rubbed your clit maybe a bit too harshly on the sheets and then you understood, a bolt of pure need rushing from your groin and radiating throghout your body, nearly making you whine already in desperation. You reached a hand down to touch yourself, to try and alleviate it and unsurprisingly you were soaked. They had to have put something in your food and drink, they must have. It didn't help that you were still writhing, gently whimpering to yourself and burying your flushed face in the pillows. Either fortunately or not, this is when Troy, your owner, finally entered. There was… something off about the way he moved to approach you from the doorway. Predatory.  
You were propped up on your elbows then, looking back at him, looking pitiful you assumed because he laughed, the gorgeous, low chuckle that you loved. "Wow, you need it that bad, huh?" Another chuckle, and by then the world was already slowly starting to melt into sensations and sounds so when he crawled into the bed, crawled ontop of you, crushed you down against the mattress with all of his bodyweight you whined. His breath fanned out over the back of your neck, you could feel his heart hammering against you, feel how hard his cock already was through his pants. He licked his lips and gulped next to your ear, caged you in with his arms on either side of you. His voice was low, had that gritty edge to it. "You know, you've been so good for me. Such a good pet… I think it's time you finally get a real reward." He bites the shell of your ear and laughs at you when you gasp, another bolt of desperation jolting you, you've started to roll your hips. He's burying his face in your neck now, inhaling deeply and exhaling with a press of his long tongue against your pulse point. This is torture and he knows it. You're practically shaking with anticipation at this point, mind just barely hanging on to those last scraps of clarity in your haze. He's grinding his hips against your ass and you know if you could turn around and look you'd see the head of his cock just barely peeking out from his already low-slung pants. "Fuuuck, keep making those sounds, you're driving me crazy." Oh. You didn't realize you were still whining.  
He shows you uncharacteristic mercy. "Turn around," he says, propping himself on his knees and elbows. Usually when he takes you it's on your stomach, any position where he's driving into you like an animal, so this is an unexpected change. Then again he's never outright drugged you, either. When you turn over, you aren't sure if it's the aphrodisiac or your own heat fucking with your vision, but Troy looks so goddamn beautiful in the low light of the sun's last rays filtering through the blinds and the candlelight. His siren tattoos are glowing, the edges of your vision pulse red, you can't help yourself and you reach a hand up to his face to gently stroke a thumb over his cheek, over the metal hinge of his jaw. He leans into it, his eyes soften…his eyes. They're glowing red. Your brows furrow and before you can get a word out he sinks back down onto you and captures you in a deep kiss, a real kiss. He's never kissed you like that before. You melt into it, managing to wrap your arms around his back, massaging a hand into the neural port at the base of his neck and he moans into your mouth, a sweet sound, and then you're grinding against eachother again. He's burying his own flesh hand into your hair, sliding it over your arms, touching and stroking whatever skin he can reach. His other hand is firmly holding your hip, your thigh, the metal digits digging into your soft flesh through the robe. He breaks the kiss, you whine softly.  
There's drool at the corner of his mouth. His muscles are tense, tenser than ever, and it throws you off. He holds your face with his flesh hand, breath fanning over it. Runs a thumb over your lips and grins when you suck it into your mouth. You feel his cock twitch.  
"Heh… you wanna submit yourself to me? Submit yourself to your God-King?" His grin grows wider, sinister, his modded golden fangs flashing. His eyes are still glowing, the ring of siren markings around his eye pulsing red-gold-red faintly. You feel like the answer doesn't need to be said.  
"Yes," you croak, and that's all it takes for him to snap the chain on what he was holding back.  
"Wise choice."  
You aren't too sure what happened then, the sensations and sounds extraordinarily overwhelming. You hear bone cracking, see his jaw splitting in two into that infamous mouth of razor-sharp teeth, see his long tongue lolling out and the muscles in his neck flexing to push it out. His siren markings flash once, twice, rapidly pulsing, like a heartbeat. Wings spread out from his back, unravelling, filling the space behind him with a show of swirling red, the outlines of demonic bones and feathers just barely noticeable. His mechanical arm sparks, crackling with the sudden explosion of energy in the room. His chest rises and falls quickly, panting, the muscles underneath his skin flexing deliciously with effort. He's still grinning at you, in a way, proud of what he's become.  
He's a monster, staring you down with glowing eyes like prey.  
You're breathless.

His jaws clack together, leans down to sink those terrifying fangs into the soft flesh of your neck. You want to scream, feel the instinctive urge, but your mouth falls open in a silent wheeze, the air being ripped straight from your lungs. He's running his tongue over punctures, into punctures, savoring the sweet sugar-tang of your blood. Growling into your neck like a feral animal, claiming you. He leans back, wraps his flesh hand around your neck, and you feel your own muscles and skin knit back together. He's healing you. You feel powerless, limp, compliant to whatever he wants.  
He's out of breath a bit, though that doesn't deter him like it usually does. He's tearing at your shift now, the smooth fabric ripping easily into shreds with the strong movements of his mechanical arm, leaving red welts in your skin that ooze blood and sting. You cry out, a hand gripping his thats around your throat, and he pulls it away, running it from your breasts down to your stomach, smearing blood across your torso. His mechanical hand grabs your chin, forces you to look him in the eyes. The look he gives you is intense and makes you throb, he's leaning down again and running his tongue along the scratches, lapping up the blood like syrup.  
He slips his hand down between your legs, they're already spread, of course they're already spread, and you hear some semblance of a laugh come from his maw. He closes it enough to form words. "Fuck, you're so hot. So good and wet for me… a perfect little whore," he growls, slipping a finger, two fingers into your heat, pumping and curling them and rubbing his thumb on your clit. It's too much all at once, your hips jolt and buck with every press against your gspot, every perfect rub against your painfully sensitive nub. You cry out, reflexively throwing an arm over your face and biting down into your own skin, huffing and whimpering. Troy slows down, uses his mechanical arm to push yours out of your face. "I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good I'm making you feel," he says, never stopping his hand, grinning when you moan and throw your head back, savoring all of your sighs and whimpers.  
He pulls his hand away only to replace it with the hot, wet heat of his tongue, jaws unhinged again, licking from your taint to your pubic bone. Your hands are grasping at the sheets, your breasts, your hair, being driven insane by this man. He reaches up and puts his fingers in your mouth, looking up at you as he laps and sinks his tongue into you. You moan unabashedly around his fingers, the taste and smell of your own juices making you clench around his tongue. He moans, the sound vibrating through your core, and your hips shake. His teeth are digging into your ass, your thighs, you're cumming, reaching a hand down to tangle in his hair as you fuck his face, his tongue never slipping out of you. You come down from your high, and he's matching the presses of his tongue against your gspot with your aftershocks. Your throat is getting hoarse at this point. You look down at him pleadingly, whining, watch as his wings beat against the bed. He closes his jaw, his tongue sliding out of you and back into his mouth, and you didnt realize just how much tongue he had fit inside you. You throb.  
Troy leans back on his knees, unbuckles his pants and rips his fly down, finally freeing his cock. You stare hungrily as his eyes screw shut, his teeth grit together, a low groan coming from his throat as he pumps himself. His wings flap with his shallowed breathing,  
"Hoo, fuck, I have to stop there, I'll ruin it," he says, looking back at you. He must have noticed how you were looking at him.  
"Nuh-uh. Nooot tonight. Next time, sweetheart." He still sounds breathless, grinning at you again.  
You get a little curious.  
"If I can't suck your cock, can I atleast touch your wings?"  
He blinks.  
"My… my wings?"  
You nod, a little shy now. He pauses, pondering. "I guess… I guess you can? I don't know, my wings have never really been touched," he muses, crawling back ontop of you. Or he's never let them be touched. He's got that softer look to his face again, eyes still glowing a bloody red, and buries his face into your neck. "If you really want to… but I wanna fuck you." His voice drops back into that low tone, grinds his cock against your cunt. His wings flutter. You both moan, and you wrap your arms around his middle. "Same time," you say, already running your fingers over some of his secondary feathers. He growls, breath hitching, you could feel his cock twitch. Huffs into your neck, taking himself in his hand and running the head along your folds and clit. "Same time."  
He finally, finally sinks into you, the heat of his cock amplified with whatever siren powers are in his system right now and the ever-present haze of the aphrodisiacs, and you both moan again. Troy's wings shudder, he pulls them down low subconsciously and you take the opportunity to run your hands along the curve of his wings. He sinks his weight further down into you, mouth falling open, giving you a delicious low groan at the sensation. His eyes are screwed shut again, and instead of immediately pounding into you like previous times he's taking his time… or too distracted by the hands running over his primaries and fondling the connective feathers between his shoulderblades. You feel him twitch inside you once, twice, and it's enough for him to unhinge his jaws again and dig them into your shoulder, fucking you into the mattress. You scream at the sudden sensation, you're still sensitive from your last orgasm, you can't even feel the teeth digging and shearing into your flesh. Troy's wings flap, uncontrollably, beating into the bed and you never really noticed how large they were until you hear them crashing against the walls. He pulls away, pulls out momentarily. You can barely understand him through his half-closed jaw. "Flip over. I wanna fuck you good."  
He doesn't even wait for you to move, using the strength of his mechanical arm to flip you. Ass in the air, face being pushed down into the pillows, and he wastes no time sliding back into you and pounding you. You're screaming, clawing at the bed and pillows, completely lost and mind-broken, reaching back for one of his hands to ground you in reality. You can't see them now, but you can still feel and hear Troy's wings flapping against the bed behind you, against the walls, timed with his thrusts.  
He's groaning, deeply, panting and then he collapses ontop of you again. You momentarily feel his drool dripping down onto your shoulder, turning back and seeing his jaws unhinge again, froth spilling down onto you, staring straight into your eyes, and his eyes and markings are oh so red, coiling like snakes around his body and he's the predator, claiming, dominating his prey. His flesh hand reaches down between your legs and you're cumming again, sobbing into the pillows until his mechanical hand grabs you by the base of your hair. "Let me hear you," he growls, voice tinged with something more, pure, primal power. Your eyes roll back into your head.  
His thrusts are becoming sloppier, he's pressing kisses to the back of your neck and mumbling incoherent sweet nothings. His wings shake, shudder, stretching and extending into the ceiling before they drop low, caging you in, entire body curling into you and he slams himself as far as he can inside you, marking you. His groan is long, guttural, satisfaction like he's waited for this for months. His cock pulses in you once, twice, you feel his heat, his cum inside you and feel it seeping out and streaking down your thigh. He pants into your neck, the both of you spent, riding high into your afterglows. His wings slowly unfold, and you teasingly run your hand along a humerus. His hips buck against you uncontrollably and he gasps sharply, biting your earlobe and growling into your ear, a warning. You're too tired to continue, the aphrodisiac is wearing off, you drop it.  
Eventually he slowly, tiredly pulls himself out of you and rolls to the side of the bed. You're… physically too exhausted to move. This is fine, Troy thinks, grabbing you and moving you to cradle your head against his chest, hear his soothing heartbeat - you divulged to him a few weeks ago that it was your favorite.  
You speak up after a while, cracking an eye open. His wings are still manifested and his eyes and markings still glow, albeit faintly… you realize his wings are cocooned around you, holding you to him like a blanket.  
"When did you…" your voice is hoarsee tha you'd like to admit, "...when did you get your wings?"  
He grumbles softly, unlocking the hatches to take his arm off the quicker way and letting it slide off the bed. "I'll tell you when we wake up." Takes his hand and gently runs his thumb over your cheek.  
You fall asleep to his heartbeat, gentle breathing, the low warmth of power emanating from his siren markings like burning coals.


End file.
